Towards the Within
by Kouri Arashi
Summary: Sometimes the people you think you know aren't really who they seem... is that teaser dramatic enough? ^_~ Co-authored by Kira and Kouri, so of course Hisoka and Tsuzuki angst. A lot.
1. Prologue

Towards the Within 

By Kouri and Kira 

_A fic! By Kira and I! Warnings for spoilers for the whole series, probably including arcs in the manga, because we like to scatter references around. Warnings for yaoi (duh), mostly Tsuzuki/Hisoka, major ANGST, maybe violence and blood and gore, oh my! Fukuoka is in the Kyushu region, but given that we are both Gaijin and have never been there, we are flying by the seat of our pants. Please forgive any and all errors. _

Disclaimer: If Yami no Matsuei belonged to us, we would be writing the real thing, not fanfics, wouldn't we. 

Prologue 

    They think it's easy. 

    _Why don't you just forget it?_

    It's easy for them to say it, but I can't do it. How can I? Forget everyone that dies, everyone that comes into my life? How can they think it's so easy just to forget all of them? Everything that happens, all the people I meet, all the things I experience… everything that hurts me and hurts the people close to me… 

    Forget it all? 

    I can't. 

    My first assignment as a Shinigami… the one after that, and the one after, and the one twenty years after that one, and the one forty years after _that_ one… I won't forget. All of those images are still burned into my mind. All those faces, those voices, their stories, their sadness… 

    I know. It's a heavy burden to carry. It's so heavy even I don't know why I do it anymore. Tatsumi tells me I'm going to kill myself someday. The guilt will swallow me whole, he says, that I should let it go or be destroyed. 

    Hisoka looks at me the same. He doesn't understand why. Why I carry so much pain when he knows and I know, we all know, how much it hurts me. 

    Especially now, they want me to forget. Now, because… I almost killed myself just a week ago. 

    I feel so stupid about it… and guilty. I was so willing to go, I didn't even think about the people that would be hurt if I died. I can't be that selfish. 

    If Hisoka hadn't pulled me back… 

    I don't know. I don't know… 

    I'm so grateful to him. He has no idea how much. He saved me, and for that… I don't know how to thank him. 

    Just as long as he stays with me. If he stays with me… that's all I need. 

    But I'll mess it up. God, I know I'll mess up… 

* * * 

    He thinks I don't realize. It's stupid of him, really. But then again, being stupid seems to be his favorite pastime, next to sweet things. I can't count on all the fingers in the Meifu how many times I've called him idiot, stupid, moron . . . all those words. Sometimes I wonder if he realizes that I'm really just wishing he would be more careful. That he would take better care of himself. 

    No. He doesn't realize. Nobody realizes, and I like it that way. Some small part of me wishes that I hadn't told him how much he meant to me . . . but the thought of losing him was too much. Too much to bear. I would have done anything for him to stay with me. 

    Anything. 

    But that's where I start being stupid. He wanted to die, I know that. I could feel it in every nerve of my body. His weariness, his utter and complete despair, trying to swallow me up. Sometimes in my dreams, it's still trying. 

    He probably hates me for saving him. I know that Tatsumi apologized, but I can't. I won't. He means the world to me, and if I apologized for that... it would remind him that it was true. And I don't think I can take that right now. 

    All my life, it was just me, alone. I was self-sufficient; I took care of myself. I had to. I had no other choice. But all that changed when I met him. Tsuzuki, that moronic, scatter-brained, sweet-toothed, purple-eyed, masochistic, beautiful, beautiful idiot. 

    I pushed him away, and pushed him away again, but he just kept coming back. And something about the way he looked at me cut somewhere deep inside, reopened old wounds that I hadn't even realized still hurt. 

    I don't know if I love him, but I know that I couldn't exist without him. 

    Does it amount to the same thing, in the end? 

    Sometimes at night, I get cold, and I wrap the blankets around me and pretend that they're his arms. But then I feel stupid, babyish, and I make myself stop. He'll never care for me, not that way. Not after everything that happened. 

    I should be content to be his friend, his partner. I'll make myself content. I won't let it hurt me, not any of it. 

    No matter how much it really does. 

* * * 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One 

    Despite everything, all the trials and tribulations that the JuOhCho department was faced with, from employees possessed by demon lords, to border-lined sociopath doctors invading and destroying their lives, there was one constant that would never change, not for a million years, not even when eternity itself ended. 

    Tsuzuki Asato, when presented with the joy of cinnamon buns, apple pie, and brownies, would never show up to a meeting on time. 

    Tatsumi Seiichirou glanced down at his watch, and as if not quite believing the indicated time, looked up at the clock above the white board in the meeting room. Confirming that they were both identical, and Tsuzuki was indeed fifteen minutes late to the meeting, he sighed slightly, a sound barely noticeable to the other patrons of the room. Ordinarily, he would have sent someone out to find Tsuzuki, possibly gone after him on his own... but given the circumstances of the past month, he supposed he could find it in his infinite kindness to forgive him this once. 

    This once. 

    It was when he was prepared to give up and begin the meeting without Tsuzuki that the offending Shinigami appeared, clutching a bag containing his beloved cinnamon buns as though he fully expected someone to snatch them right out from beneath him. It would not have been the first time, anyway. 

    He glanced around the room, and realizing that everyone had been waiting for him, flashed a sheepish smile. 

    "Um... there was a sale down on Chijou," he tried to explain, but Tatsumi did not want to hear a word of it. With a single glance, he commanded Tsuzuki to his chair, and the latter plopped down glumly beside Hisoka, not quite relishing in his treasure so much any longer. 

    Hisoka glanced over at him, in a manner that looked disdainful to all but the practiced observer. That observer might have noticed the hint of affection beneath the contempt, or perhaps the concern under the exasperation. But it would take a lot of effort to unearth it, and most people would never see it. Hisoka took great pains to keep his reputation as an ice block. He wasn't quite sure why he did, but it was a habit he didn't think he would ever shake. 

    Still, he couldn't hold back the wave of relief that Tsuzuki was back to acting normal. It seemed like years ago that they had arrived back from Kyoto, even though it had only been a week. Having Tsuzuki skip out on a meeting for sugar, just like he always did, was deeply comforting in a way that unsettled Hisoka slightly. He didn't want to care that Tsuzuki was back to normal, but he did. 

    He jerked back to attention as Tatsumi cleared his throat to start the meeting. 

    "While you two were otherwise occupied," Tatsumi can, neatly side-stepping the matter that both had been out of commission for a week now -- a sort of unspoken vacation between Konoe and the Earl, "there were a number of deaths in Fukuoka in your Kyushu region. Five total, all teenagers. They were murdered, presumably by the same person. 

    "We did some research, and found that all five attended the same school," Tatsumi continued. "And, on further investigation, we found there was a teacher there that was listed in the Kiseki but not yet had died." 

    "So you think they're connected," Tsuzuki concluded. As dense-minded as he could be at times, when it came to his assignments, he was a dedicated worker. He just simply tended to be very easily distracted by sugary things... 

    "Most likely," Tatsumi replied. He handed a folder containing information on the case to Tsuzuki. "That is what you two need to find out." 

    Hisoka looked disgruntled, waiting for someone to suggest that he go undercover as a student. That was quite possibly his least favorite part about being a Shinigami (encounters with Muraki notwithstanding). He always felt like he had to do the homework in case the teacher called on him, yet never actually got any grades for it. Somehow, it seemed terribly unfair. 

    Much to his surprise, a few moments passed and nobody suggested it. He stood up. "All right, let's go," he said, wasting no time on further discussion. 

    Tsuzuki blinked wide-eyed up at him. "But I haven't gotten to eat my cinnamon buns..." 

    Hisoka rolled his eyes. "You can eat while you walk, can't you?" He gave Tsuzuki a stern look, then tilted his head slightly to indicate Tatsumi, implying that Tatsumi would be likely to simply take away the cinnamon buns if he thought that eating them would delay their departure. 

    "Oh." Catching his meaning immediately, Tsuzuki leaped up, his bag of cinnamon buns still pressed firmly to his chest, and skittered out of the room. Tatsumi looked for moment like he was about to roll his eyes, but instead, a slight inkling of a smile appeared on his face. 

    "Take good care to watch over him, Kurosaki-kun," he said. "He may be acting like this, but he hasn't begun to forget what happened." 

    Hisoka raised an eyebrow at Tatsumi. "You say that like I may have begun to forget myself," he muttered, underneath his breath so Tatsumi wouldn't hear. Out loud, all he said was, "Hai," before he followed Tsuzuki out of the room. He caught up with Tsuzuki in the hall, where he was munching on his treats. "Come on," he said, sounding more irritated than he really was. 

    Tsuzuki paused in his movement to take an enormous bite of a gooey, sticky cinnamon bun. "Na, Hisoka, you look sorta mad." 

    "I'm not mad," Hisoka said immediately, though he still sounded annoyed. "And even if I was, it's no big deal. We have work to do." 

    Deciding that it would be better to let it drop than to press the issue, quite likely something that would only succeed in further irking Hisoka, Tsuzuki shrugged his shoulders and did not bother to respond. He had learned quickly that trying to push Hisoka would only make him draw further and further away, and sometimes, if he felt threatened, in pain. Tsuzuki still remembered 'fondly' what had happened the last time Hisoka had felt threatened by him. 

    One of the more convenient features of being a Shinigami was instant transportation to any given place. It was literally in the blink of an eye that Tsuzuki and Hisoka stood on a street corner of Fukuoka, surrounded by voices and the sounds of passing traffic Somehow during the process of the transfer, Tsuzuki had lost his bag of cinnamon buns. He spent a moment or two looking around him, fully expecting them to up and reappear, and when they did not, he let out a dramatic sigh. 

    "Oh well," he said, his disappointment fading away into a smile, "we can just splurge on dessert later." 

    Hisoka snorted. "Aa, that'd go over real well with Tatsumi." He took their expense booklet out of the pocket of his jeans jacket and tapped Tsuzuki on the nose with it. "We'll both get yelled at if you screw up, so we're sticking to the book this time." He had no real expectations that this would happen; it never did. In fact, Tatsumi rarely yelled at them anymore unless they exceeded their expenses by an unearthly amount. He, like everyone else, had gotten used to Tsuzuki. 

    Tsuzuki's disappointment returned at those words. "But Tatsumi purposefully cuts out just enough money to get dessert!" he complained. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kicked dejectedly at the ground before beginning to walk down the busy sidewalk. "He just doesn't like me..." 

    Hisoka just rolled his eyes and followed him along. "Tatsumi-san cuts out the money because he knows you'll go over the budget anyway, and figures he might as well try to cut down the damage. Do you even know where you're going?" 

    "To a school," Tsuzuki declared, refraining from commenting that he was very impressed that Hisoka had become a scholar of Tatsumi Seiichirou's behavioral patterns. 

    Hisoka gave him a withering look and did not even deign to comment on this statement of the obvious. He simply set off in the opposite direction with a slight sigh. 

    "Hey!" Tsuzuki exclaimed, though it did take him a moment to realize Hisoka was not tagging along behind him. He whirled around and hastened his steps to catch up with him. "Do _you_ even know where we're going?" 

    "Yes," Hisoka said patiently. "We've been to this town before. The high school is this way. I don't know where you thought you were going." 

    Tsuzuki glanced longingly over his shoulder at the candy shop he had been intending to go into. He should have known it was a blind hope to think that Hisoka would forget where they were going. He always seemed to be able to remember every little thing, no matter the significance. 

    "When were we here before?" Tsuzuki asked, scratching at the back of his head thoughtfully. 

    "About nine months ago," Hisoka said. "Just a standard case. We weren't here very long, so I'm not surprised that you don't remember it." Though from what he recalled, Tsuzuki had certainly liked the candy shop, and he had seemed to remember that quite well. 

    Tsuzuki did not respond immediately, instead trying to remember the case. When someone had been a Shinigami as long as he had, it became harder to discern one case from another, unless something had stood out about them. He would not easily forget his first case with Hisoka, nor with Tatsumi for that matter, and never what had happened in Kyoto. 

    "Oh, I remember now," he said suddenly, brightly. "Suicide case. An easy one." 

    Hisoka nodded. He didn't remark that he didn't know how Tsuzuki could sound so cheerful about it. It was part of the job. If you didn't accept what being a Shinigami meant, you went insane. And that meant not being upset over little things like suicide. You saved emotion for the big things, like Muraki. 

    Really, he thought irritably, that was half Tsuzuki's problem. He didn't know when to not let things effect him. Little things like Maria and Kazusa. He should have let them go. But the deaths of the innocents always weighed on him more than anything else, any other facet of the job. 

    "Aa," he finally said, and did not say anything more. 

    "It was sad," Tsuzuki said somewhat abruptly, causing Hisoka to look at him in confusion before he realized that he was still thinking about the case from the months before. 

    Most suicide cases involved teenagers, most that were suffering from depression, low self-esteem, or a number of other adolescent troubles. The fact that they were so young was what kept them bound to the living world. This case had been unique in that it was a middle-aged woman. 

    She had been having a long, bitter divorce with her husband. They argued for months over who would receive custody of their two daughters. In the end, she had won the right to her children, but her joy did not last for long. One weekend the girls had been spending with their father, all three had died in a car accident. They were struck by a drunk driver. 

    The woman had sunk into depression and in the end, killed herself. Tsuzuki remembered that they had found her spirit at the grave of her two daughters… 

    "Ah, anyway," he said quickly, all traces of sadness disappearing in a bright smile, "how do you think we should do this one?" 

    Hisoka muttered something about how he had to do all the work and all the thinking, which was no more true than it was fair. Then again, that was why he hadn't said it out loud. "Well, we may as well go over to the school and see if we can find this teacher," he said with a sigh. "And if nothing obvious presents itself, maybe try to interview the families or friends of the victims." That promised to be a good time. 

    Tsuzuki opened up the folder Tatsumi had given him, eyes running briefly over the text. He lifted up the front page, describing the nature of the investigation, to find a profile on the man that Tatsumi and the chief seemed to suspect to be their culprit. 

    "Nobuo Ukyou," he murmured, reading the name of the accused teacher. Thirty-nine years of age, scheduled to die at thirty-nine due to an accident a construction site. He apparently was intended to have the misfortune of wandering under a steel beam just as the wires snapped. 

    "Well, if that isn't a pleasant way to go," Tsuzuki said quietly, a little bewildered. "Looks like his time was up about three months ago, but according to this, he's still teaching at the school." 

    He handed the folder to Hisoka. "The five murdered are in there too," he said. 

    Hisoka opened the folder and studied the sheets of paper as he walked, a skill which he had mastered which bewildered Tsuzuki. There were brief details given on each death, but it was only a sketchy report and couldn't be considered reliable. He sighed and closed it, tucking it underneath his arm. "All right, let's see. Maybe he'll be wearing a sign that says 'evil' and we won't have to investigate anything." 

    "We should be so lucky," Tsuzuki said, grinning slightly. 

    Suddenly, he whirled around on Hisoka. "Na, na, does this mean I get to see you in a school uniform? You're always so cute when you do." He beamed. 

    Hisoka scowled, a scowl deep enough to stop a charging rhinoceros in its tracks and which had no effect on his partner whatsoever. "I'm not going undercover unless I absolutely have to," he said, annoyed. "And if I do, you're going to do my homework for me!" 

    Tsuzuki blinked wide-eyed at him. "But the courses are so ha~rd," he complained. "I grew up in the Meiji era, we didn't have stuff like that!" 

    "You can learn," Hisoka said complacently. "But this shouldn't be too hard. I mean, we have a suspect, so there's no real reason that I would have to go undercover, ne?" He gave Tsuzuki a look with a hard glint in his eye, daring Tsuzuki to make another comment about school uniforms, cuteness, and Hisoka's involvement therewith. 

    Tsuzuki did not read the look as well as he could have, as he sprouted puppy ears and a tail purely for the sake of drooping his ears sadly and walking with the tail between his legs. "That's no fun…" 

    Hisoka didn't reply. He simply stalked towards the school without saying another word. 

    "But you know," Tsuzuki began, trailing after him, "it might be easier to get this guy off his guard if you were one of his students..." 

    Hisoka let out a heavy sigh. He knew that Tsuzuki was right, and his own reluctance to go undercover was only going to make their mission more difficult. He didn't want to say anything; it was just that being a student again would remind him so much of what had happened in Kyoto . . . 

    He shook himself slightly, trying to gather his thoughts. Tsuzuki was right; but he was still hoping that it wouldn't be necessary. "Well, maybe you should try talking to him directly, and if you don't get anything, I'll do that," he said, hoping he sounded reasonable. "You can ask if he knew the students who died and maybe he'll give something away." He found himself hoping that the school uniforms didn't have ties. He hated wearing ties, and Tsuzuki always wanted to help him with it when he did. 

    "Oka~y," Tsuzuki said. "We'll say… we're thinking of enrolling you there, but we're worried about the number of murders. How's that?" 

    Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Subtle," he remarked. "Very subtle." 

    "You know anything better?" 

    There was a long pause in which Hisoka tried, quite desperately, to think of something better and couldn't. "No," he finally admitted. "But he's going to want to know why we came to him specifically. We don't even know if he had these kids in classes." 

    "Um." 

    Tsuzuki paused. Hisoka had a point there. Their excuse was definitely lacking, but since neither of them could come up with anything else… 

    He took the folder from Hisoka and looked back to the man's profile. "Ah! He teaches music." He beamed at Hisoka. "We can talk to the principal, say we really need to get you into a good music class because… you're uh… a prodigy or something." Tsuzuki nodded solemnly, pleased with his plan, and completely unconcerned with the fact a truck could drive through the holes in it. 

    "And if he wants a demonstration of my newfound musical skills?" Hisoka asked dryly. "I suppose we could just call up Hijiri and get him a wig . . ." 

    "Well, what else then?" 

    Hisoka sighed and gave it some serious thought, seeing that he couldn't count on Tsuzuki for anything at least slightly useful. There simply had to be a better way to do this. He flipped through the folder as they walked, then said suddenly, "Oh, look at this . . . Ukyou-san was the last person to see one of the students before she died. Maybe you could go in as a detective and question him about it that way?" 

    Leave it to Hisoka to come to a brilliant conclusion like that one, Tsuzuki thought with an inward grin. He supposed that was why they were partners. Hisoka was the brains, and he was… well, he wasn't quite sure what he was, but nine times out of ten, it wasn't the brains. 

    "Okay," he said agreeably. Posing as a detective was something he was actually quite good at. He had the appearance that most people assigned to people in law enforcement, cliché as that appearance was. But it was true most people never thought twice when they saw someone wearing a black suit and trench coat claiming to be with the police. They just assumed it was true. 

    "But you know," he continued, as they walked into the school courtyard, "Tatsumi and Konoe-kachou would probably say it would be better to go about it from all angles…" 

    Hisoka folded his arms. "What are you getting at?" 

    Tsuzuki smiled sheepishly. "Just that it might be a good idea for you to pose as a student still." 

    Hisoka looked prepared to wallop him one to the head, and so Tsuzuki skittered out of the way to avoid impending doom. 

    "I'll go talk to him," he said quickly, flashing a smile at Hisoka. "I'll try not take long." 

    He knew Hisoka would have preferred to go along with him, but considering Hisoka was physically only sixteen and looked like any other ordinary high school student, it wouldn't have been one of their brighter ideas to try and pass him off as a junior detective or something like it. No more than Tsuzuki's faulty plan would have been a brilliant idea. 

    Classes had already ended for the day and most of the teachers seemed to be packing up for the day. Tsuzuki located the office and found a young girl, still in her early twenties, seated at the receptionist's desk. 

    "I'm sorry to bother you," he began, showing her a disarming smile, "but I'm looking for Nobuo Ukyou-sensei." 

    She looked up at him, and apparently not expecting to see someone quite like him standing before her, blushed faintly. "Nobuo-sensei should be in his classroom," she said. "Room 203, on the second floor. I could should you, if you'd like." 

    Tsuzuki shook his head. "That's all right, I'm sure I can find my way. Thanks." 

    He did even manage find his own way, though he did have two moments in which he went down the wrong hallways, and another in which he mistook the janitor's closet for a classroom. He never had been very directionally inclined… 

    A glance in the room confirmed that Nobuo was still in his classroom, seated at the desk and apparently grading papers. Tsuzuki knocked lightly on the door before stepping inside. 

    "Nobuo-sensei? I have a few questions for you." 

    Tsuzuki looked him over. He was a middle-aged man, with thinning black hair streaked with gray, showing his age. The lines beneath his eyes and around his mouth were more prominent than was natural for a man of his age, as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His clothing was somewhat tattered, and he seemed on edge. When Tsuzuki had opened the door, he had nearly leapt ten feet from his chair. His general appearance failed to give Tsuzuki the impression he was innocent… 

    "What can I do for you?" he asked. He clasped his hands together on top of the desk and looked up at Tsuzuki with a controlled calm. 

    "I'm with the police," Tsuzuki said, hoping the teacher didn't have the sense to ask him for a badge. "I'm just going around asking people about the murders that have been happening here. I heard you were the last to see the most recent girl murdered." 

    Tsuzuki thought he saw the slightest twitch in Nobuo's hand, but his outward demeanor did not change. 

    "I thought as much. Though…" He frowned slightly. "The police were just here yesterday." 

    "Ah, I'm from another section," Tsuzuki replied, trying to come up with some kind of alibi. "They call me in when things get a little out of hand." He smiled in a way he hoped was disarming. 

    Nobuo nodded. "The girl that died was in my class. She had stayed after that afternoon for tutoring. She left around five, and I heard in the morning she had been killed." 

    "Was she acting any differently than normal?" 

    Nobuo shook his head. "No. It just happened." 

    The way he spoke… his tone of voice and his answers were so controlled, Tsuzuki could not help but think that Tatsumi and the chief had been right in suspecting him. He was not telling the whole truth, that much he could tell just by looking at him and listening to him. But he had not been trained to judge people by their emotions. That was Hisoka's territory. 

    "Is that all you can tell me?" Tsuzuki asked. 

    "I'm not sure what else you want from me," Nobuo replied. "That's all I know." 

    Tsuzuki frowned. "Aa. I'm sorry to waste your time then." 

    Nobuo did not offer a word of parting as Tsuzuki slipped out of the room. 

    Shaking his head, Tsuzuki started down the stairs to rejoin Hisoka. His partner wasn't going to like it, but it looked like he was going to have to pose as a student after all. Talking to Nobuo was useless. Hisoka would be able to do far more. 

    He found Hisoka waiting in the courtyard, leaning up against a wall and looking bored out of his mind. Tsuzuki trotted over to him. 

    "Sorry," he said immediately, smiling a little. He wasn't sure why he was apologizing… he simply felt obligated to. 

    "Don't apologize," Hisoka immediately snapped. "All you did was run off and ditch me. What did Nobuo-san say?" 

    Tsuzuki looked even more embarrassed at those words. "Sorry," he repeated. He scratched at the back of his head. "He didn't really say much of anything, but I know he was hiding something…" 

    "You're still apologizing," Hisoka said, his tone stiff and displeased. He sat waiting for Tsuzuki to suggest he go undercover; he certainly wasn't about to bring it up himself after kicking up such a fuss about it. 

    Tsuzuki pretended that his shoes were very interesting. "So… um… if you went undercover, then you could probably… you know, get a better feeling of him…" 

    "I know," Hisoka snapped. "Which means I'll have to take music classes, and I have no natural talent whatsoever. I can't play any instruments, and that means I'm going to have to sing." He gave Tsuzuki an aggrieved face. "I can't sing!" 

    Tsuzuki offered him a smile. "Think of it this way. If you mess up, you know you won't be going to school there anymore after a week." 

    He put his hands into his pockets and began strolling away. 

    "Now, let's go get that dessert!" 

    "That's comforting," Hisoka mumbled under his breath. "You're not the one who's going to have to make a fool of himself in front of other people." He noted that Tsuzuki was still walking away and stood up, fuming. "Hey, wait for me, idiot!" 

    "I'm going to have some apple pie with ice cream," Tsuzuki declared, slowing down to allow Hisoka to catch up with him. "And oooh, maybe some brownie fudge sundae, and strawberry shortcake!" 

    Hisoka sighed. 

* * * 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

    Hisoka had given Tsuzuki quite the hard time about having to go enroll, but in truth had only been doing it because the wide-eyed puppy-faced look he'd gotten had been so hilarious. Not that he would ever tell Tsuzuki this. He had allowed the other Shinigami to usher him off to the school building and promise him pie when he returned. 

    He hadn't had the heart to remind Tsuzuki that he wasn't very fond of pie. 

    So now he was sitting in the school office, and it felt like he had been filling out paperwork for hours. They couldn't possibly need to know this much about him. Fortunately, he had an alternate identity that he always used for this specific purpose. It could sometimes be annoying, but the school records were kept up to date and he didn't have to worry about appearing out of nowhere. 

    "So you're signing up for the music department?" the secretary asked him, looking over his papers. 

    "Hai," Hisoka said. "I was hoping to get into Nobuo-sensei's class. I heard he was a very good instructor." 

    She nodded. "He has some spaces open. You've prepared your piece to audition?" 

    Hisoka's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Au-audition?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as shocked as he thought he did. "I need to audition to get into the music department?" 

    The secretary straightened up. "This is a very competitive school, of course you have to audition. What instrument do you play? Or are you a vocal performer?" 

    "Uhm, yes," Hisoka blurted out. He didn't play any instruments, so singing was his only option. He sighed slightly. He hadn't really included 'make idiot out of self' high up on his agenda. He considered just signing up to be in school regularly, without being in the music department, but going undercover wouldn't do as much good if he never saw Nobuo-sensei. If he didn't manage to get in, he could still enter as a normal student. 

    The secretary checked her watch. "The head of the music department, Sanemi Kai, is free this period. If you go down, he might be able to give you your audition now. I'll call to let him know you're coming." 

    Hisoka nodded. Face bright red, he wandered away, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He found the music building with no trouble, since he had seen Tsuzuki going in and out of it the day before. There was a directory on the wall which Tsuzuki hadn't seen, and he used it to locate Sanemi's office. 

    He knocked hesitantly on the door and a middle-aged, balding man opened it. "Good morning," he said politely, wondering if he should explain why he was there. 

    "Morning," Sanemi replied. "Please come in. Michi-san called to tell me that you'd be coming. So you're a singer, huh?" 

    "Of sorts," Hisoka managed. The man's office was spacious and nicely decorated, with a worn and obviously well-loved piano in one corner. 

    "Do you have a piece prepared?" Sanemi asked, seeing that Hisoka was obviously ill-at-ease in the situation. "Don't worry if you don't. A lot of the students who come in didn't realize that they had to, and since this is only high school level, not higher, it's not so much of a big deal. You would have to audition again to get into the choir, but you can take care of that next week." 

    Hisoka nodded and relaxed slightly. "No, I didn't bring anything. I mean, I know a song that I could sing, but I didn't prepare." 

    "Well, let's start with this . . ." Sanemi settled at his piano and started Hisoka singing scales. Hisoka did his best to follow along with what the man played, and hoped that he didn't sound like a total idiot. After that, the man had him do some exercises in which he sang back what he had been played. He frowned slightly when Hisoka couldn't read music other than to stab wildly at the notes, guessing based on how far apart on the scale they were. 

    "Do you want to sing that song you know?" he finally asked. 

    Hisoka, feeling as if he might as well do the thing properly, and also rather ashamed that he hadn't been able to read music, nodded. Without further hesitation, he set off on a lullaby his mother had once sung to him. Though he had never by any means been beloved in his family, it was only once his powers started to assert themselves that he had been scorned. Any good memories of his childhood were from when he was very young, and the song was one of them. 

    Sanemi sat and listened silently until Hisoka finished, red in the face and looking highly embarrassed. "That was actually quite good," he said. "You've never had any formal training?" Hisoka, slack-jawed, managed to shake his head. "For someone so inexperienced, you have good tonal quality. You're not good now, but you definitely have potential to be so." 

    "Thank you, sir," Hisoka managed. 

    "You'll have to learn to read music, of course," Sanemi said. "I'm quite surprised that you haven't yet. In any case, I'll give Michi-san a call and tell her to go ahead and schedule your classes." He gave Hisoka a benevolent smile. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again soon, ne?" 

    Hisoka nodded, and left the office in a daze. 

* * * 

    While Hisoka had the immense pleasure of enrolling in school and attending classes, Tsuzuki had the joy of locating them a hotel to stay in on the very limited budget Tatsumi was allowing them, a task which happened to take him all day. Tatsumi had always been of the opinion that more expensive did not necessarily mean better quality, but as far as Tsuzuki was concerned, when it came to hotels, expensive was better. 

    He had eventually found a modest one that was a little more than what Tatsumi had wanted them to pay, and it did mean he would have to skip a few desserts… but sometimes sleeping on a comfortable bed was more important than sweets. 

    Sometimes. 

    As Hisoka had no idea where he was, after he had made the arrangements and gotten everything settled, Tsuzuki started over to the school to 'pick him up.' He had a feeling Hisoka wasn't going to appreciate his kindness very much, but imagining the scowl that would appear on his face just made Tsuzuki smile. 

    Thus, when Hisoka walked out the school doors that afternoon, he found Tsuzuki standing there, hands in the pockets of his trench coat and a grin on his face. 

    "How was school?" he asked immediately, a little more than a grin on his face. 

    Hisoka gave him a look that bordered between disgust and annoyance. "It was school," he said. "I got lots of homework that I'm going to take great joy in making you do. I got into the music program, but by the time I was all scheduled, the class I would have had with Nobuo-sensei was over. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to get an impression of the man." 

    "Well, that's okay, we've got time," Tsuzuki replied. "I got us a hotel." 

    Hisoka lifted an eyebrow at him. "Is it within the budget?" he asked, knowing full well that Tsuzuki's taste in hotels was somewhat different from Tatsumi's. 

    Tsuzuki grinned. "Sorta. Don't worry, we can afford it." 

    They maneuvered their way through the throngs of students rushing out the doors in a hurry to get home, onto the sidewalk and toward the inner city. 

    "Na, did they make you do anything to get into the music program?" he asked curiously as they walked. 

    Hisoka shrugged. "I had to fill out a lot of paperwork," he said. He knew that he wasn't a very good liar, and that Tsuzuki would probably see right through him, but he wasn't talking about that travesty of an audition unless it became absolutely necessary. 

    "How're you going to pull off singing?" 

    Hisoka arched an eyebrow at him. "How do you know I can't?" he asked loftily. 

    The minute the question was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He had just been somewhat miffed by Tsuzuki assuming he had no talent whatsoever, and had forgotten who he was dealing with. 

    Tsuzuki perked up instantly. "Can I hear you sing?" 

    "No!" Hisoka snapped immediately, with a bit more vehemence in his voice that he had actually intended. He didn't like doing things that he felt he wasn't good at, particularly not in front of other people. Bad enough that he'd had to make a fool of himself (as he thought he had) in order to go undercover. Singing in front of Tsuzuki simply was not an option. 

    Tsuzuki deflated. "Okay…" He knew not to press the issue by the tone of voice Hisoka had used with him. 

    Hisoka saw the hurt look in Tsuzuki's eyes and sighed. "Sorry . . . I didn't mean to snap." He frowned slightly, and added, "That much. It was just a long day. I didn't know I was going to have to audition, and I don't like making a fool of myself. Let's just go back to the hotel." 

    Tsuzuki looked at him a moment, puzzled, then relaxed into a smile. 

    "It's okay, Hisoka," he said. "Maybe I can get you to sing for me some other time." 

* * * 

    The first few classes Hisoka had definitely qualified as boring. He did his best to keep himself interested and attempt to pay attention, without actually having much luck. However, he was having an amusing time imagining Tsuzuki trying to wrestle with the trigonometry homework that he was going to have. 

    He simply refused to do it himself. Tsuzuki was going to find out firsthand why he hated going undercover at schools so much. 

    Hisoka scowled down at the pad of paper and incomprehensible numbers. If only he hadn't died at the utterly stupid age of sixteen . . . he shook the thoughts off. Shinigami, more than anyone, knew to not question death. Of course, his had not exactly been scheduled. But it was still death, and that was natural and not something to be questioned. 

    Besides, he had too much else to think about now. He didn't want a certain evil doctor clouding his thoughts and emotions. 

    He plodded along through the trigonometry class, wondering who on earth had decided it should be the first class of the day. Numbers weren't something that should be dealt with in the morning. After that, he had a Japanese literature class that seemed interesting enough. He actually began to regret he wouldn't be there to benefit from it longer. 

    After that, he went to his music class. It was the one he was dreading most. To begin with, he would finally meet Nobuo-sensei. Secondly, and much more frightening in his opinion, he might have to sing again. This time, it might be in front of his other classmates. Just imagining the kind of reaction he might get was making him blush all the way to his ears. 

    He slid into a seat and waited for the professor's arrival. The other students nodded to him politely, but did not question his presence. 

    Hisoka could hear the campus bell chiming ten o'clock in the morning, the hour at which the class was supposed to start. Nobuo-sensei still did not appear. From the casual appearance of the other students, Hisoka guessed that this was a regular occurrence. Still, it seemed like something to check on. 

    The girl sitting to his right had out a piece of sheet music, and was studying intently. Hisoka leaned over and cleared his throat. "Uhm . . . 'morning," he said, wishing for the thousandth time that he was better at social interaction. 

    She put down the sheet music and smiled at him. "Good morning," she said. "You're new, aren't you?" 

    He nodded. "Aa . . . my name is Kurosaki Hisoka. I just started today." 

    "I'm Kashiko Yuiko," she introduced herself, giving him another reassuring smile. "Are you worried? Nobuo-sensei is always late. But he's an excellent teacher, I promise." 

    "Has he always been like this?" Hisoka asked curiously. 

    Yuiko frowned slightly. "Well, no," she admitted. "It started a few weeks ago, and it's been getting worse. But we all like him so much that we don't really want to tell the administration. He's just a bit disorganized, that's all." 

    Hisoka wanted to pursue this subject further, but before he could say anything, the door opened and Nobuo-sensei walked in. Hisoka tensed involuntarily and forced himself to gather a physical impression before using his empathy. 'Disorganized' hardly seemed the word for the professor. His black hair was unbrushed, and his clothes looked like they had several days wear. He had a distracted air about him, as if he was paying attention to something that was far away from all of them. 

    He did not introduce Hisoka to the class, as his other two professors had. Hisoka didn't think that the professor particularly realized he was there. 

    Hisoka took a deep breath, then slowly let down his shields. He relied on them constantly, to keep him from being overwhelmed by the thoughts of everyone around him. Being a Shinigami had brought him a few good things, and that measure of control was one of the most treasured. Tatsumi, he of the Iron Inner Control, had taught him how to shield. 

    The moment his shields were down, anger washed over him. More than anger; cold fury. He slammed his shields back up against the force of it, but some of it still leaked through. He had lost that measure of separation, and it would take time to build his shields back up to full strength. But he was certain now of at least one thing: Nobuo Ukyou knew that he was supposed to have died. 

    Hisoka managed to pull himself together enough to manage the rest of class. After nearly fifteen minutes of teaching, Nobuo turned to him. His eyes rested uncomprehendingly on Hisoka for a minute before he spoke again. "You're new here." 

    "Aa." Hisoka stood up and bowed slightly. "Kurosaki Hisoka. I started here today." Nobuo continued to simply gaze at him, leaving him feeling as though more were required. "The secretary told me that you would have been informed." 

    Nobuo shrugged slightly. "Yes, I suppose they probably sent me some paperwork or . . . something like that. Take your seat. We will continue the lesson." 

    Hisoka nodded and slid back into his seat, feeling shaky. He couldn't be certain that Nobuo had murdered the other students, but if he'd had to bet his month's salary one way or another, he knew which way it would have gone. There was just something about that even, empty gaze that made him shiver. 

    He didn't dare take his shields down again. 

* * * 

    Tsuzuki felt somewhat useless, staying behind at the hotel all day long while Hisoka did all of the real work, and even a little guilty. Of course, the feeling didn't last for more than hour. Ordering room service had perked him right back up again, until he had realized that Tatsumi would be taking the expense straight from his own paycheck, which only succeeded in depressing him all over again. And he proceeded to cheer himself right back up by ordering in some Chinese food from a local restaurant. 

    He was tangling lo mein noodles around his chopsticks when the door was opened and Hisoka entered. He had the grace to pause mid-bite to greet him. 

    "How was school?" he asked cheerfully. 

    Hisoka thumped down a pile of books and notebooks in front of him. "Trigonometry, chemistry, and Japanese history," he said. "The last you ought to be good at -- you lived through the era we're studying. And it's all due tomorrow." He had no plans on telling Tsuzuki that as long as they went to get Nobuo, he wouldn't have to go to school the next day, or turn any of the homework in. He wasn't going to say anything about that until after Tsuzuki had done it all. 

    Or at least most of it. 

    Tsuzuki stared at the mounds of books and papers before him, eyes widening ever so slightly more as he glanced at a new book or paper. 

    "You have got to be kidding me." 

    Hisoka glanced at him, then at the food, then flopped down on the bed and smiled innocently at him. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you." 

    Tsuzuki looked up from the books. "They assign this much homework on the first day?" 

    "It wasn't the first day for me," Hisoka reminded him, exasperated. "I came in the middle of the semester. They assigned me the same that everyone was assigned. You're lucky I've done this before or I'd have a pile of makeup work on top of it. I'm not even making you do the work for all my classes." 

    Sighing, Tsuzuki opened the trigonometry book and began to flip through the pages. He had never actually gone to school. What he had learned, his sister had taught him, and all of these numbers and strange symbols had never been something she had mentioned. He could feel a headache coming on as he tried to read even the directions. 

    "I don't get it," he complained wearily. 

    Hisoka did his very best to fight back laughter. In the end, he did manage, but he couldn't hold back the smile. It seemed to be the first time he'd smiled since Kyoto, and it made him feel better. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, particularly Tsuzuki. "You've never taken any higher math?" he assumed, forcing the smile back. 

    "I know how to multiply and divide," Tsuzuki said, a little exasperated. "Um. That's about all." Admitting it made him feel a slight pang of shame mixed with embarrassment, and he looked back down at the book, frowning at its pages. 

    Hisoka debated, for a minute, the idea of trying to explain it to Tsuzuki, but teaching him enough to do trigonometry would be far more work that it was worth it. "Well, at least do the history," he said, doing his best to sound very put out and hide the fact that he was having trouble hiding his smile. 

    "Okay," Tsuzuki relented. History sounded like something he could do. 

    Pushing away the homework for the time being, he picked up his box of lo mein and resumed eating. "So what did you think of Nobuo?" 

    Hisoka paused, giving the matter one last thought before voicing his opinion. "I think he's almost definitely the murderer," he finally said. "I only let my shields down for a minute, but that was enough. He knows that he was the one who was supposed to die . . . and he's furiously angry about it." 

    He sighed slightly, pushing one hand through his hair. "He just doesn't . . . understand. That sometimes people have to die." 

    Tsuzuki was sympathetic. He had encountered countless people that had feared the inevitable death, and when it came for them, they tried to run from it or hide away. It always caught up to them in the end . . . that was how death worked. But it always saddened him. Sometimes, he honestly wished they could have escaped. 

    "Then I guess just waltzing up to him and asking him to come to Meifu is out of the question." 

    "I sincerely doubt he'd come quietly," Hisoka said with a sigh. "And I don't know why he's been killing the other children. Maybe some type of spell to prolong his life . . . I don't know." His voice was tinged with weariness. He wasn't about to admit that the case was getting to him, but something about the look in Nobuo's eyes was bothering him. It was unfair. Maybe not as unfair as his own death had been, but still unfair. He knew how Nobuo felt. And as much as he reminded himself that the man was a murderer, he couldn't help but feel pity for him. 

    "Maybe," Tsuzuki murmured, but he wasn't sure if that was the case. If he were in fact doing it to continue his life along, both he and Hisoka would have noticed some kind of magical residue around him. Tsuzuki hadn't been able to see anything when he had met him. 

    "I guess we should just keep an eye on him for awhile," he said. "Until we figure out something to do." 

    Hisoka wanted to protest, for quite a few reasons. The fact that the first that came to his mind was 'but I don't want to have to do my homework' made him feel childish and silly, so he bit it back. He also didn't want to chance having to sing in front of his classmates -- surely they would realize that he didn't really belong in the class. If they realized, Nobuo might realize. That couldn't be good. 

    "Are you sure?" he finally asked. "The longer we watch, the more chance there is that he'll realize we're not . . ." His voice trailed off as he searched for a suitable word, and he came up with nothing. "That we don't belong here," he finally amended. 

    "But that might be to our advantage," Tsuzuki replied. "He may confront one of us, and that gives us a better chance of taking him back to Meifu." 

    Hisoka shrugged and looked at the pile of homework. "I guess." 

    "Don't worry, Hisoka. It'll work out all right." 

* * * 

    Hisoka yawned, leaning against the chain link fence and waiting for Tsuzuki. The older Shinigami had announced that morning that he was going to come walk with him that day. Hisoka had been too tired to argue. He had been up late doing the trigonometry, and he was still sure that most of it was incorrect. 

    At least Tsuzuki had actually done the history for him. 

    He was tired after a long day of school, though he had fortunately evaded having to sing again. He didn't think he would be able to manage it another day, and was desperately hoping that he wouldn't have to go. He had another huge pile of homework and he didn't want to have to do that, either. 

    As it turned out, homework would end up being the least of his worries. 

    A pair of arms locked around him from behind, one across his middle to pin his arms to his sides, the other around his shoulders to press a hand against his mouth. He struggled to get away, kicking and wriggling his entire body, but he was held fast and being dragged him away from the school, toward a nearby thicket of trees. 

    "Shinigami, aren't you?" a voice hissed in his ear. "I'm not going anywhere, do you hear me? Nowhere." 

* * * 


End file.
